"Ugh..." Kuang Feifan slowly regained consciousness. His head felt as if countless steel needles were continuously stabbing it, wave after wave of piercing pain washing over him, his skull seeming to split apart. He slowly blinked his eyes open, and the first thing that entered his vision was a ceiling laced with cobwebs and mold stains. He was lying flat on his back on the floor. He painstakingly strained his eyes to the sides, managing to spot a single window. Moonlight filtered through it, casting a pale, frosty sheen across the ground. Half of a dilapidated curtain near the window threw a ragged shadow onto the floor, stirring faintly without any breeze.

Kuang Feifan attempted to sit up, but his whole body felt utterly drained, refusing to move an inch. Resigned, he closed his eyes again, forcing himself to relax, trying to sift through the chaos in his mind for some semblance of order. Finally, fragments began to surface—a figure, a figure clad in red.

"Damn it, this is like seeing a ghost," Kuang Feifan muttered as he snapped his eyes open.

Strength seemed to be trickling back, and Kuang Feifan slowly managed to push himself into a sitting position. Aided by the moonlight streaming through the window, he finally got a clear view of the room he was in: thick with dust, utterly empty save for the bare, mottled walls, and on one wall, a large, vivid crimson ten-pointed cross.

Seeing the red cross, Kuang Feifan’s eyes immediately widened. Gritting his teeth, he stood up and walked over to the wall bearing the mark. A faint scent of blood drifted into his nostrils. Without needing any further inspection, Kuang Feifan knew the cross had been drawn in fresh blood.

Kuang Feifan was certain that this cross hadn't been there before he passed out. So who drew it? Was it that figure in red? What exactly happened before he lost consciousness? He swallowed hard, forcing down the rising unease in his heart, and decided he needed to leave this room immediately.

But the next discovery plunged Kuang Feifan into profound shock. The entire room, apart from the iron-barred window bathing in moonlight, consisted only of four mottled walls covered in various mold spots. Where was the door? A shiver ran down Kuang Feifan’s spine as he subconsciously scanned his surroundings. As his gaze swept over the window, he suddenly felt something was profoundly wrong.

Kuang Feifan frowned deeply and walked step by step to the window, peering out into the night illuminated by the incoming moonlight. In that instant, he grasped what was amiss. Outside the window, there was nothing but the full moon hanging dead center in the deep indigo expanse of the sky. The stark white moonlight washed over him, chilling him to the bone.

"Hee hee, isn't it beautiful?" A woman's voice suddenly cut through the silence. The voice was melodious yet utterly devoid of emotion, echoing faintly in the vast room, lending it an ethereal and eerie quality.

Kuang Feifan instinctively turned his head to the right to locate the sound. There was only a bare wall; no one was present. Yet, the voice had definitely come from that direction. Kuang Feifan steadied himself and carefully scanned the area for anything suspicious. Suddenly, he jerked as if struck by electricity. On the right wall, amidst patches of peeling plaster and several damp mold spots, one particular patch resembled a human face with long, disheveled hair, soaring locks, and a pointed chin—strikingly like a woman’s visage.

Before Kuang Feifan could react, the bluish-black face formed by the mold began to contort and shift, slowly bulging outwards. The surface undulated like waves, and gradually, brow ridges, eye sockets, a nose bridge, and lips materialized on the wall. By the time her head had fully emerged from the plaster, her facial features were completely defined. Then, she opened her eyes, fixing them on Kuang Feifan—a pair of pupil-less eyes filled with hatred, malice, and rage...

Kuang Feifan involuntarily stumbled back a few steps, his heart hammering uncontrollably. He gasped in deep, ragged breaths. If he hadn't been Kuang Feifan—a man whose composure was indeed unusual—he might have lost his sanity from sheer terror. But even as it was, Kuang Feifan could not stop himself from shouting out loud, "You... what are you?"

The figure squeezing out of the wall moved like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. In moments, more than half of her body had appeared. She grinned hideously at Kuang Feifan, then suddenly arched her exposed body backward, emitting a piercing, bloodcurdling shriek that made every hair on Kuang Feifan's body stand on end. He instinctively raised his hands to cover his ears, retreated several steps, and pressed his back firmly against the cold wall behind him.

As the figure let out that skyward wail, her entire form instantaneously wrenched itself free from the wall. With a smoky, writhing distortion, Kuang Feifan watched in horror as a long-haired woman in a red dress materialized before him. She stood with her back to him, head bowed low, her face obscured, only her strands of black hair fluttering unnaturally in the air.

Kuang Feifan felt a strange familiarity with the woman but couldn't place her, causing him to blurt out a single syllable, "You..."

"Hee hee..." The woman's shoulders shook slightly, emitting a laugh so bizarre it defied description. She slowly raised her head, and with a series of sickening crack-crack sounds of joints twisting, her head rotated a full one hundred and eighty degrees to face Kuang Feifan. Through the curtain of hair cascading before her, Kuang Feifan saw a deathly pale face, bluish-gray lips, and a pair of pupil-less white eyes peeking from between the strands.

In that moment, Kuang Feifan’s eyes snapped wide open, and the events leading up to this moment flooded back from the depths of his memory like a tide. He gasped out loud, "It's you again..."

"Hmph hmph..." The woman in the red dress made no mouth movement, yet a string of chilling laughter emanated from her. Suddenly, she turned her back on Kuang Feifan, erupted into motion, and swept toward him with a gust of sinister wind. Kuang Feifan watched, paralyzed, as her body twisted in mid-air without her head moving. She raised both arms, which contorted unnaturally as if made of soft clay, and her skin-and-bones claws lunged toward Kuang Feifan's face.

No matter how courageous Kuang Feifan was, no matter how resilient his nerves, his mind was a perfect blank at that moment. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut and automatically clutched the 'Mani Stone' pendant hanging around his neck. In the blink of an eye, the woman in red's hands connected with his neck. An indescribable, icy coldness immediately made his skin crawl, and a violent sense of suffocation washed over him.

Just then, Kuang Feifan felt a warm, gentle heat emanating from the pendant in his grasp. Simultaneously, the woman in red recoiled as if scalded by fire, letting out a sharp, painful screech. Her entire form dissolved into a chilling, icy gust of wind and vanished from the room into thin air.

Kuang Feifan wheezed, sucking in huge gulps of air, and weakly slumped down the wall to the floor. His heart was still beating violently. He struggled to bring his emotions under control when, suddenly, a thought struck him, making him cry out in alarm, "Damn it, He Shaoqing!"

He fumbled frantically to pull out his phone and began dialing a number. Soon, he dropped the phone in defeat. Although the screen displayed signal bars, not only He Shaoqing's number but every other number he tried only resulted in a busy signal, no matter how many times he dialed.

Kuang Feifan rested his head against the wall powerlessly, muttering, "Why? Why is this happening?" He glanced at his phone; the time displayed was precisely midnight. But he knew something was wrong, because when he had first pulled it out, it was already past twelve. After trying to call for so long, not a single minute had passed on the clock. He gave a bitter smile, and his mind drifted back to the events preceding this nightmare.

In truth, all of this had begun with a purse-snatcher.

Kuang Feifan, twenty-five years old, a graduate of the School of Law, had joined the Forensic Science Center a year prior, working in the Electronic Evidence Inspection and Appraisal Department. Three months ago, he was dispatched for external training. As soon as he returned, his best friend, He Shaoqing, dragged him out for drinks and conversation. There were two reasons for the reunion: first, to celebrate He Shaoqing’s successful transfer to the Serious Crime Unit Five of the Municipal Bureau; and second, to congratulate Kuang Feifan on completing his training and returning.

Having been apart for over three months, the two friends drank and chatted, and time flew by unnoticed until past eleven o'clock. Since Kuang Feifan had to report back to the center the next day, he suggested they stop drinking. He Shaoqing was not inclined to agree.

"No way, we're just getting into it, and you want to leave?" He Shaoqing protested, displeased.

Kuang Feifan looked at him helplessly. "Boss, I have work tomorrow. I don't want to spend the whole night in a bar."

He Shaoqing's eyes twinkled. "Then let's go drink at your place."

Kuang Feifan couldn't refuse He Shaoqing and reluctantly nodded in agreement.

The two men, arm in arm, left the bar. The street was quiet—a moonless, starless night broken only by the soft glow of streetlamps. Occasionally, a taxi sped past. Kuang Feifan looked at He Shaoqing questioningly. He Shaoqing grinned, shaking his head. "Why take a cab? Let's walk back. A little stroll."

On the deserted street, a woman’s scream suddenly pierced the silence: "Help! Someone's..."

Kuang Feifan, a forensic examiner, and He Shaoqing, a detective, could not ignore such a plea. They quickly ran toward the sound. Around the street corner, a middle-aged woman stood paralyzed with panic, shouting about the crime while nervously looking around, seemingly wanting to pursue but too afraid to. The two men rushed up. He Shaoqing spoke first, "Ma'am, what happened?"

"Someone... someone snatched my bag..." The middle-aged woman pointed ahead, crying out fearfully.

"What did he look like?" He Shaoqing pressed urgently.

"A man, very young, twenties. I didn't see his face clearly, wearing a gray jacket... I didn't notice anything else..." The woman’s voice was laced with tears.

"Don't be afraid, we’ll chase him. You call the police quickly..." Kuang Feifan advised.

"My phone... my phone was in the bag." The woman was beside herself with worry.

Kuang Feifan took out his phone and began dialing the emergency center number while telling the woman, "Wait here for the police. We'll go after him."

The street they ran down was not a main road; apart from the two of them, there wasn't even a shadow to be seen. Kuang Feifan, with his sharp eyes, spotted a figure in a gray jacket just climbing over the iron railing gate of a large courtyard at the end of the road before dropping inside.

Kuang Feifan and He Shaoqing exchanged a look. Without a second thought, they sprinted over and scrambled over the courtyard gate using both hands and feet.

The moment their feet hit the ground, a strange gust of wind swept past them, chilling them to the core. A cold dread shot up from the base of their spines, causing both men to shudder involuntarily.